This trouble didn't come to any kind of conclusion when she got on the job hunt. Nowhere was hiring and the ones that were weren't looking for someone whose only credible skill was editorial success at a failed publication. Soon the Brooklyn apartment she rented and its upkeep became too much and she knew she was going to have to leave. It was around this time that she saw an advert for a live in maid. The job was at an historical mini mansion upstate that was furnished with plenty of space for the in house staff. ‘What could it hurt?’ She figured. That had been 4 weeks ago, and now here she stood, in the hallway of this beautiful estate, a form fitting maid’s uniform hugging her body.
Maria glanced around at the line of compatriots who swept down the hallway beside her. They were a mixture of different races and ages, but featured only one gender. Most of the women were old, the rest would be considered plain, their blank faces raising no suspicions of a personality hiding beneath the steely façade. Like a military unit they kept their eyes trained to the front of the room, at the pretty lady in a skirt and heels who walked the floor before them. Her beautiful hair fell down her head in Amber curls and her slightly freckled face revealed an expression which was firm, but not friendly. Maria had never considered herself very beautiful, but next to this woman she felt like frog, perched on the stem of an orchid.
“We’ve met but I'll reintroduce myself,” the woman barked gently at the assembly, “my name is Alexa. I'm Mr. Goodson’s personal assistant. I manage all his daily affairs and this includes the upkeep of his very old, very expensive new home.”
She slowly threw a glance warningly across the gallery of faces, as if threatening them with certain doom if they misplaced even one of her words. Maria had heard of the man to whom she was referring, had even seen pictures, but she never would have thought she would be tackling dust mites in his home. Wes Goodson, she knew, had invented the first really popular mobile game when he was 18. ‘Hit First’ was a global sensation and spawned it's very own console version thereafter. Since that time it was known that Wes had become something of a recluse, diligently working away at the sequel to ‘Hit First’ until he had something he knew he could be proud of.
“You will not see Mr. Goodwin whilst you live on this property,” Alexa assured them coldly, “Mr. Goodson purchased this fine estate so he could have peace and quiet whilst he worked. His office is the games room, located on the second floor, first door on the left, next to the toilet. I'm telling you this not so you know where you can find Mr. Goodson if you have a question, but so you know where to avoid. Mr. Goodson possesses a very intensive working style and it is crucial he not be disturbed.”
Alexa continued her speech, curling her tongue with relish at each syllable uttered. It was clear she enjoyed her job very much, but something else became clear to Maria as Alexa continued her rambling. Every time she mentioned Mr. Goodson’s name her eyes lit up, as if someone had kindled a small fire within her irises, and it was immediately obvious that she was in love with her employer. Maria could also tell, with some ease, that the love she bore was unrequited.
Once she had completed the stony introduction Alexa assigned them their areas of the house to work on.
“And who are you?” Alexa asked Maria as she reached her place in the line.
“M-Maria, mam.” Maria stumbled as she felt her tongue disappearing down her throat. Alexa regarded her coolly. Her eyes suggested a hint of surprise, as if she had a plan and Maria’s appearance signaled a fundamental change in her logic.
“I don't remember hiring you?” Alexa said, almost accusingly.
“No mam,” Maria said, “I was hired by Chita, the former head maid. I was a late edition.”
Maria smiled timidly as Alexa’s eyes scanned over her body, mirrored pools drinking in her image as the PA’s mind wonderingly questioned whether Maria was worth the trouble of worry.
“Very well,” Alexa finally announced, “take the second floor hallway and toilet.”
Maria nodded weakly as Alexa passed by her.
*****
Branches rattled against the window, pressing the golden hued fall leaves against the surface as they softly crunched on the impact. Maria was oblivious to the whims of nature though as she glided the vacuum cleaner across the diamond patterned surface of the red hallway carpet. She wiped sweat from her brow as she reached the climax of her chores, before stashing the appliance away into the darkness of a nearby cupboard.
She approached the bathroom door, perched directly opposite to the threshold of the game room, the sacred hall they must never enter for fear of receiving laser blasts from Alexa’s eyes she thought mischievously to herself. Maria reached out a hand to open the door, only to find it locked. She tried again, pulling it harder, rattling the foundations of the door but with little success. She sighed exaggeratedly and reached into her pocket from which she produced a ring of keys, one of which was sure to open the way to this obstinate bathroom.
After a number of failed attempts Maria found the key which fit the hole exactly and the barrier glided open before her.
Maria entered the room and closed the door behind her, only to find she was submerged in almost total darkness. She glanced around at the high ceiling and wooded wall panels and the swift realization that she was not in the bathroom crept up on her with all the subtlety of a bulldozer. She whipped around to find herself face to face with a huge, high definition projector whose cybernetic light spilled from the screen, weakly bathing the room in its artificial glow.
The images on the screen stood still, presenting a solider killing a huge, tentacled monster. Standing in the glow of this image, looking directly at Maria was a stunningly handsome man. Headphones pressed against his ears and a game controller rested in his hands. His expression turned from one of anger to amusement and curiosity. Maria had of course seen pictures of Wes Goodson before, who hadn't, but the photographs did no justice to the man who stood before her. Defying all the clichés of a gamer geek he stood rigidly, wrapped in a plush robe, smiling smolderingly at Maria.
“I'm sorry.” Maria muttered aloud.
Wes Goodson reached up and removed the headphones from his ears.
“I'm sorry?” He asked.
“I said,” she smiled nervously, “I said I'm sorry.”
“Ha-ha, well,” he grinned ravishingly, “I guess we're two sorry people then. That’s a pretty…sorry, state to be in.”
Maria felt a strange sensation as warmth trickled up her fingertips, like a waterfall defying the laws of gravity. This man, this billionaire, was flirting with her. Suddenly, Alexa’s warning, and the obvious signs of attraction to her boss she had exhibited to Maria, came back to her. As she came to her senses the smile dropped from her face and she ran from the room.
“I'm sorry…” She called after as Wes stood dumbfounded to the spot, beaming happily to himself. He closed the door, turned and resumed playing the game prototype.
Maria crashed through the door she had mistaken as that of the game room and emerged into the bathroom, where she leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, and smiling to herself.
Chapter 2 – The Invitation
Maria had spent most of the night in a cold sweat. Her dreams were haunted by replays of the scene in the bedroom. These misremembered versions offered alternate histories where Mr. Goodson shouted at her, admonishing her for disturbing his peace. Other instances presented scenarios where it was Alexa who was in the room. Either way, these imagined snapshots revolved over and over in her head and each time she would awake with a gasp, terrified that the next second a security guard would burst into the room and escort her from the grounds. But the door continued to remain closed.
Maria hated that she had become like this. She was strong and confident once. There was a time when she would have eaten a woman like Alexa for breakfast. But she had been beaten down. Life had taken its shots and she wore the bruises of it. The thought made her eyes sting with sadness, and anger.
As Maria dri
fted uneasily back to sleep her thoughts began to clear and form. The terror left her mind and suddenly a new vision revealed itself to her. This time she stumbled into the room, she had her conversation with her employer, but then he reached up his hand, he stroked her face. She placed her own hand over his, and before she knew it they were kissing. Their lips formed into an embrace that was passionate and sudden, the fire of their mouths soldering them together as she felt his tongue slyly push against her own.
Maria awoke with a jolt, but not an unpleasant one. This wasn’t an unsettling awakening, indeed, her body tingled with delight and anticipation. She had never felt this way before, not even with her husband. No man had ever so successfully managed to invade her thoughts in this manner. She pulled the covers over herself and drifted back to sleep, but fear no longer coursed through her body, what she felt now was entirely different. What she felt now was…pleasure.
*****
Wes Goodson sat in his monthly shareholders meeting showing all the interest of a bird on a telephone wire. He yawned as he stared towards the front of the room, at the chart showing a vermillion line charting the progress of pre sales for his latest game. The words the suited man said as he pitched a stick at the chart fell through his head like sand through fingertips, his attention focused instead on the glimpse of beauty he had caught the previous day. The maid had smiled at him, he knew that much. She had smiled at him, and now he couldn’t get her out of his head.
Wes’s business manager, Barry Waterston, could see the distracted look in his client’s eyes. He had worked for the man long enough to know when he wasn’t paying attention, as this generally happened to be most of the time. On this occasion, there was something different in the vagueness of his friends’ expression though. His eyes looked milky and unfocused and the faintest of smiles creased his face. Usually his thoughts were back in the game room, consumed with the virtual fate of his characters, but this was different. Those daydreams came with a look that was intense and no nonsense, but this time he was dreamy, swept away.
Barry leaned over non-chalantly and whispered in Wes’s ear, “What’s her name?”
Wes smiled conspiratorially back at Barry and gave him a playful nudge. They resumed their attention to the meeting, Wes glad of the fact that he had Barry there to take in the information that was never going to take root in his own head. He resolved that when the meeting was over he would ask Alexa the name of the mysterious maid, and set up a meeting between them. Suddenly his face glowed even more obviously, behind the hopeful guise of optimism.
*******
Maria was dusting the framed pictures of one of the many hallways that stretched around the house. She stood, tiptoed on a stall, sending the little beads of dirt into the air when she heard the purposeful slapping of walking feet heading towards her. She turned to see Alexa, caught in a stride, a small fire burning in her eyes. Maria stepped down from the stool, her heart in her throat as she anticipated the firing she was sure she was about to receive.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Alexa asked, almost savagely.
Maria maintained her fabricated smile as she asked, “I don’t know what you...?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Alexa fired, cutting her off sharply. She walked towards Maria and pushed her up against the wall with the force of her body. “What kind of game are you playing?”
Maria avoided eye contact as she told her, “I’m not playing any kind of game, I swear.”
“Well we’ll soon find out, won’t we?” Alexa said, then added, almost as an afterthought, “Mr. Goodson has requested to see you in his game room.”
Maria’s eyes widened at Alexa’s declaration. “He has?” She asked breathlessly.
“My god,” Alexa snarled, backing off slightly, “you’re pleased as punch aren’t you?”
Maria tried to hide the gleeful radiance of her smile but was doing a pretty poor job of it.
“Well,” said Alexa confrontationally, “you'd better go, hadn’t you?”
Maria slithered away from the wall, avoiding any kind of contact with Alexa, who enviously watched her as she waltzed down the hallway.
“Hey maid?!” Alexa called after her.
Maria turned,
“I'll be watching you.” She assured her menacingly.
Maria ignored Alexa, turned on her heel and made her way down the hall. It seemed impossibly long. She wanted to bound down it with glee, but how could she under the ever watchful eye of the faithful PA? She couldn't believe it, Wes Goodson wanted to see her, in private. She felt as if her feet were made of cloud, a peculiar appendage that could defy the laws of physics to whisk her away to her destiny. But she had to go slow, she had to be regal like the house was. She had to stay firm, and stand strong. Still, the thought of her dream from the night before, the phantom memory of his taste on her lips, made her heart quiver like the trembling string of a plucked guitar.
She made her way to the entrance of the house. It seemed years ago to her now that she had walked in here, standing in line with all other maids. She wondered what they were doing. She hadn't spoken to any of them the past day. Some of them she knew were sharing quarters and she was glad to have been spared that indignity. Now she had been invited into a room she thought she would never see though, and this time, she certainly wasn't going to be alone.
She reached the stairs, and laid her hand against the banister. She caressed the smooth, dark wood as she made her way up to the floor above, imagining what Mr. Goodson might say to her. Was it possible that he was angry? That the flirtatious snatches she had detected the day before had dissipated and now there was nothing left but anger? The thought sent pervasive tingles down her spine and suddenly the joyous imaginings which composed her thoughts began to be tainted by fear.
She reached the door, unsure and uncomfortable. Could this be the threshold to delirium, or doom? There was only one way for her to find out. She pushed her hand into the atmosphere, gently knocking. The world fell away, as if she stood alone in the darkness of space, beneath a blanket of distant, twinkling lights. Those moments felt as if they were perhaps the longest of her life. And that the question of his intention might be the most important she’d ever have answered.
Eventually, the door swung inward. Maria imagined him as from the day before, perched in the darkness, the steady glow of the game providing the only illumination. The man standing before her now was not however bathed in the artificial light of the television, but instead the warm light of the New York sun. He smiled kindly down at her, as if the sun’s Rays were painting a picture through him, filling that smile with heat. Maria stared up at him, perplexed, and tried to grin in return.
“Maria.” Wes uttered softly, like Tony singing a refrain from West Side Story, offering his hand. “Please come in.
Chapter 3 – Playing Games
Wes led Maria by the hand into the room. The curtains were dashed open across the swathe of a window which stretched up to the roof. Beyond was a perfect vision of fall. A grove of trees swept across the grounds, oak sentinels standing guard over the rest of the manor, their spindly arms shedding the remains of summer in preparation for their approaching hibernation.
Maria followed Wes as he closed the door behind them. The room had its own grandeur which she had not noticed before. The huge screen remained fastened to the wall but it was now clear that the rest of the space was furnished with decorative items which wouldn’t look out of a place in a museum. She stood in the middle of the room, behind the couch which spanned its length, a brief curve accentuating its middle.
“What do you think?” Wes asked as he slowly approached her.
She turned, “It’s beautiful.”
“Do you think so?” He asked.
She smiled, “I do.”
“Well,” he said, leaning on the back of the couch, “you would know.”
Maria blushed and turned away. She approached the wall near the window. Attached to it was the blac
k and white image of a woman, surrounded by a family, playing a game of snakes and ladders. The woman had thick black hair and the three children who surrounded her looked to be screaming with joy. It was a natural, perfect moment, and one, Maria could see, composed entirely of love.
“Who is this?” Maria asked.
“My Mother,” Wes confirmed as he walked over, “she used to love to play games. She was my inspiration, my muse, for a time. She helped me to invent small games when I was a child. Of course, then I discovered computers.”
Maria pirouetted on the spot to find Wes standing before her. She looked up at him, the very image of him dancing in her eyes.
“Did she..?”
“Yes.” Wes confirmed and dropped his head sadly.
“I’m sorry.” Maria told him, as she reached a hand up, gently caressing his cheek.
Wes swiftly turned away as Maria withdrew. He focused his attention to the projector adorning the wall.
“I suppose you’re wondering why I summoned you here?” Wes declared.
She nodded, “Yes.”
“Well,” he said, turning once again to face her, “I have this new game coming out and, well, you’re a bit beyond our target demographic, so I thought, maybe you’d like to give it a shot? Could give us some good insight”
Maria smiled coyly, “I’m not much good at games.”
“That’s okay,” he said, offering his hand, “I’ll help you out.”
She slipped her hand into his gentle embrace and he placed her on the couch. Maria sat nervously as he went about preparing the room for the imminent gameplay. He drew the curtains, and fired up the console. The screen burst into life in a blur of colors. The special effects, even on the menu screen, were incredible to Maria. The graphics were so realistic, they looked like they could be part of a film. Wes unfurled the controller and brought it over to Maria.
BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE BOXED SET: Labyrinths of Passion (7 Impassioned and Fetching Romantic Stories) (New Adult Billionaire Romance, Billionaire Romance, New Adult Short Stories) Page 5
